


When You Truly Hear My Voice

by KenmaNyan (NarryEm)



Series: DRAMAtical Murder Short Stories by EmilyY [3]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gay Sex, M/M, Post-Canon, Psychological Drama, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Yaoi, i'm proud of myself, like the most twisted thing i have ever written in my life, this is so twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:19:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/KenmaNyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba doesn’t know how long this has been going on for. He doesn’t fully understand what is going but all he knows is that Clear is his entire world and only tie left to his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Truly Hear My Voice

**Author's Note:**

> title from Lullaby Blue by Itou Kanako (from Clear's episode ending animation)
> 
> Now that I’ve done a few NoiAo fluff, time to delve into dark stuff with Clear’s bad ending. *evil laughter*

 

Aoba watches in despair as Clear’s lifeless body is dragged out of the room. He himself is being restrained by the alphas and other guards and led to a small white room with a single white bed. He is locked up tight like some criminal.

“Clear,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Footsteps sound from outside the door and Aoba perks up a bit. He hasn’t the faintest clue how long it has been because there is no way of keeping time in a windowless room. The door clicks open and the person behind it shocks Aoba.

“Clear?” his voice sounds hoarse and broken. “I thought . . .”

“Aoba-san,” he says, smiling. “I’ve missed you. I’m alright, Toue-san fixed me as you can see. We’ll be together, always.”

Clear comes forwards and caresses Aoba’s cheek. Aoba flinches back because unlike before, Clear’s fingertips are cold. Just like a machine’s.

“Sorry, Aoba-san. I guess there’s been a mistake in my temperature settings. There, it’s fixed now.”

He leans in and kisses Aoba chastely, a mere brush of their lips. Aoba responds to the kiss instinctively, opening his mouth and eagerly accepting Clear’s tongue into his mouth. It’s been so long since he has last experienced human touch and this is heavenly for him. Clear’s hands go up to the back of his hair and his fingers entangle in his hair. They tug at the roots of his hair a bit but it only adds to the pleasure.

Then pain spikes through his mouth as Clear bites on his tongue. Blood trickles out and Clear licks at it lovingly.

“Aoba-san. I shall make you beautiful. More beautiful than ever.” He hugs Aoba tightly, almost to the point that it’s squeezing at Aoba’s lungs.

A sense of dread grips Aoba. Something . . . something is wrong with Clear.

“What happened?” he gasps out, and he finds himself clinging to Clear’s embrace despite his fear.

“Toue recalibrated me. And in that process, he’s fixed up the malfunction that I have: free will. But it’s okay because I’ll always be by your side, Aoba-san. I love you.”

Clear without free will. Exactly what does that entail?

 

 

                                                                  

-

 

 

 

Aoba is exhausted. They keep hooking him up to various machines and take measurements. They force him to say certain words, force him to use Scrap occasionally and then at the end of the day, lock him back up in the small white room. Clear always visits him with a tray of food but he has long lost his appetite. The sight of Clear brings pain to Aoba because this isn’t the Clear that he once knew.

“Aoba-san, tomorrow will be a special day,” Clear announces with a smile.

“What’s going to happen?” Aoba asks, already dreading the answer.

“You’ll see,” Clear answers, and then laughs to himself.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

The world is black. Or rather, Aoba doesn’t know what it looks like anymore. Clear’s taken his eyes away, saying that beautiful porcelain dolls like do not require sight. Aoba brings his hands up to the strip of cloth that is covering his empty eye sockets. Tears run down his face and he’s surprised that he’s still got them left considering he has no eyes.

“Aoba-san, are you alright?” Clear’s concerned voice asks. His footsteps come closer and the bars clink open. They now keep him in a cell, although Aoba thinks it’s stupid considering that he can’t escape nor does he want to.

He doesn’t reply. Clear won’t let him go no matter what. There is no changing his fate now.

“Please answer me. I want to hear you say my name. Aoba-san,” Clear’s voice is wobbly, as though he is about to cry. Can robots cry? Aoba wonders. Is the current Clear even capable of emotions?

There is a faint rustle and Aoba flinches. What is Clear up to now?

“Aoba-san, if you won’t answer me . . . I just want to hear your voice, so . . . .”

Clear pulls Aoba into him and starts to kiss him roughly. Aoba lets out a surprised gasp that is soon swallowed up by Clear. The kisses are rushed, biting, and violent. Then Clear’s hands start to roam down Aoba’s body, tweaking at his nipples and the sweeping down to his groin.

“I love you, why can’t you understand that?” Clear asks in a broken voice. He grips Aoba’s soft cock and strokes it quickly. Aoba moans at the touch; it’s been too long since the last time he’s done this. There’s a soft _snick_ somewhere in the room and then, something cold and wet touches his entrance.

Aoba panics and tries to squirm away from the foreign sensation with no avail. Clear’s grip on him is firm and he gasps out loud as one finger is pushed inside of him slowly. The hand on his dick doesn’t relent and soon, his body relaxes into the stirring inside of him.

“Does it feel good, Aoba-san?” Clear queries, his own voice sounding strained. “If you want more, all you have to do is ask.”

Aoba shakes his head vehemently. This isn’t what he wanted. This isn’t what Clear would have wanted either.

“Aoba-san . . . .” Clear trails off. Another finger pushes into him followed by a second and Aoba almost cries out Clear’s name.

“Why can’t you do this for me?” Clear whispers. The fingers are abruptly pulled out and quickly replaced with something much larger.

“Clear!” Aoba gasps out, shocks of pain coursing through his veins. It hurts, but Clear is holding him down firmly. “Stop it, Clear! Stop!”

“You said my name,” Clear says happily. “Aoba-san, I love you so much.”

Clear starts to move and the pain intensifies. Clear keeps stroking his dick, keeping the lines between pain and pleasure blurred and faded. Soon, Aoba finds himself pushing back into Clear’s thrusts, opening up to what is happening. He hates it. He hates how his body is at odds with his heart and mind.

“Ahh!” Aoba moans as he gets jostled even more and Clear repositions him so that he is sat on Clear’s lap. Gravity pushes him down onto Clear’s cock more and it’s too much combined with the skilful fingers teasing at his slit and his balls.

Aoba is so close to coming, he can feel it in his lower stomach. He clings to Clear and ruts into Clear’s grip in heat when suddenly, the hand on his cock tightens painfully.

“Aoba-san,” Clear rasps. “If you want to come you’ll have to ask.” As if to demonstrate, Clear tightens his hold on the base of Aoba’s cock even more.

“Clear,” Aoba mumbles. “Please, I wanna come so bad.”

“As you wish.” Clear relinquishes his hold and the delayed orgasm feels like a tidal wave to Aoba. There is also a sensation of something hot spilling inside of him so he guesses that Clear came as well.

Afterwards, Clear wipes him down and then kisses him everywhere. It sends a pang down Aoba’s heart when Clear kisses the cloth that is covering his now-gone eyes.

“You’ll be more beautiful than ever by the time we’re finished,” Clear finishes. “Good night, Aoba-san.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Aoba doesn’t remember when it happened but now, he can’t feel anything below his knees. Maybe Clear’s taken them away too. Memories are too hazy now and there is no point of trying to remember it all anyway.

The door clicks open and the metal bars clink on the cement floor as they open. Smell of fresh food wafts from close by and Aoba’s mouth waters even though his body doesn’t hunger food the way it used to.

“Good morning, Aoba-san,” Clear says cheerfully. He sets down the tray on Aoba’s lap and kisses his forehead in an affectionate manner. “It’s summer now, although you wouldn’t be able to see it. Birds are singing and so many flowers have bloomed. Petunias, orchids and purple hyacinths in particular look so gorgeous.”

Something soft is pressed against Aoba’s lips and he opens to accept the food half-heartedly. It’s something warm and slightly salty. He would have recognized this a long time ago but all foods taste about the same now.

“You have to keep your strength up, Aoba-san,’ Clear reprimands him. “I can’t have you wasting away; then we won’t be together forever.”

Clear all but force-feeds him what must have been an entire bowl of the meal. Then, he makes Aoba sip water from a cup.

“I wish you would talk to me,” Clear mumbles, his voice soaked in sadness. “I miss hearing your voice.”

Aoba almost caves in and says Clear’s name. But no, the only times that he’ll ever say anything these days is to beg Clear for release like some primal animal who only knows the basest of functions and joys.

There is a rustling sound and metal clanking. Aoba flinches back and relaxes when Clear says, “I’ll come back later, Aoba-san. Until then.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

“Ah, Clear!” Aoba pants, hands gripping at Clear’s back. If Clear were human, his fingertips would be digging into his skin deep enough to draw blood. Or perhaps it’s because he is not strong enough. Either way, he is caught up in the pleasure as Clear pounds into him.

The bed he has been provided with is not the most comfortable but it does its job. The lube must be lost somewhere in the sheets and the mattress creaks loudly, at least to Aoba. Senses are an extraordinary thing. When one is lost, the others make up for the loss. And the feel of Clear’s cock opening him up and their sweaty skins slapping against one another seems to be magnified for him.

“Aoba-san, you know what you need to do,” Clear states firmly, hand going still on Aoba’s leaking erection.

“Please, let me come,” Aoba pleads, tears streaming down to his cheeks. Something warm and wet touches the spots where his tears are and Aoba realizes that Clear is licking up his tears. A long time ago, the action would have soothed him but now, now it only makes him cry even more. This isn’t the Clear that wants to console him. This is the Clear that is curious what Aoba’s sorrow tastes like.

“That wasn’t good enough. You’ll have to get yourself there.”

With that, Clear drives into him with even more force. It hurts, the pure momentum of it and Aoba cries in pain and sadness. His prostate is in an abused state and he can’t take this anymore. But his body is treacherous and comes in a couple minutes. Clear’s breaths hitch and his hips still as he comes as well.

“I love you so much, Aoba-san. Why can’t you see that?” Clear asks sadly. “Why?”

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

“You look so beautiful, Aoba-san,” Clear comments, brushing his hair gently.

It’s been months, or maybe even longer. Time has ceased to hold meaning for Aoba and now, he is nothing but a shell of an empty soul. His legs are now gone except for the stump of his thighs and he knows that Clear is planning to take away his arms as well. He should be madder that he is being robbed of his free will little by little but he can’t bring himself to. This means that he’ll stay with Clear and as twisted and dark as the implications are, he wants to keep on living this meaningless life.

“Times like this, I wish I could still sing perfectly. But Toue and taken that function out of me in the fear of my misusing it. He needn’t have feared since he has complete over me but humans are fearful creatures by nature, are they not? That’s why they mass produce weapons that can decimate an entire nation and yet yearn for something even more devastating.”

Aoba listens without a comment. The brush reaches a tangle in his hair and pain spikes up to his scalp. He bites his lips in place of yelping in pain and Clear notices that.

“Aoba-san,” Clear sighs. “You never say anything anymore. Not even when I’m pleasuring you. Why must you be so difficult? Just accept my love and this can all be even better. You are being silly.”

This is all wrong but Aoba hasn’t the power to change it. All he is a pretty doll that Clear cherishes and plays with. That’s all there is to it. This is Aoba’s reality.

Clear’s thumbs stroke the tops of Aoba’s cheeks and he realises that he’s been crying. “Why are you sad, Aoba-san? Is it because I forgot to visit you yesterday? Toue needed me to dispose of a problem and it took longer than I’d expected. There was no way that I could make time to come see you without disobeying his commands.”

Aoba shakes his head slightly, his chest heaving with his silent sobs. It doesn’t matter how he truly feels. The words screaming in his minds won’t reach Clear the way Aoba needs them to anyhow. Clear won’t rescue him from this reality, and no one else can either.

Silence ensues for a few moments and then Aoba hears the distant sound of thunder.

“It’s been pouring outside all day,” Clear informs him. “It’s beautiful, the way lightning lights up the grey sky. I wonder what jellyfish do when there’s storm out. Do they keep floating or do they seek shelter? I guess I’ll never find out. But it’s still fun imagining what they would do when faced with crises, isn’t it?”

Aoba bites down on his lip again. Just now, Clear sounded like his old self for a brief second. But moments like this are fleeting. Aoba has to accept completely that his Clear is gone.

So that his heart can stop breaking and perhaps start mending.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

It’s so bizarre, not being able to hold on to things anymore. Clear’s taken away his forearms the other day and now, he lacks the ability to hold things, carrying things, or properly hug Clear. The last part devastated him upon first realization and it still pains him to know that there is one less way to convey his true emotions to Clear.

“Aoba-san,” Clear greets him cheerfully. “How are you feeling today? Have you recovered fully from the blood transfusion yet? I’ve heard that it can be unpleasant and debilitating for a little while in the aftermath.”

Aoba doesn’t answer. Having expected that, Clear proceeds to cup the sides of Aoba’s face.

“Shall I check to make sure everything is alright, then?” Clear suggest, voice adopting a husky tone. There’s no doubt in Aoba’s mind as to what Clear meant by that.

Clear turns Aoba over to his side and showers his back and shoulders with tender kisses. Then he nips at where his shoulder blades protrude out. Since he is very bony, it hurts and Aoba gasps sharply at the pain. Clear’s fingers wrap themselves in Aoba’s hair and tug on them at a force that is borderline pleasure and pain. The mix of sensation overwhelms Aoba and his cock starts to swell up.

“Beautiful,” Clear murmurs. “Just like always. I love you, Aoba-san. So, so much. I promise that one day you’ll understand.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

It’s over now.

All that Aoba once was, it’s all been stolen away. His smile, his hope, his heart, his sight, and his voice, all gone forever. Clear hasn’t changed back and Aoba knows that it truly is the end for him. It doesn’t matter what Clear’s intentions were because they are wrong and twisted. He can’t have the forever that he wants because Aoba’s heart can’t take it anymore.

“Aoba-san,” Clear says, sounding choked up. “I’m so sorry.”

. . . What? Clear is not supposed to feel remorse, not in this state. He has been breaking Aoba to pieces ever since his Scrap failed and Aoba has lost all sense of hope that Clear might come back.

“I’ve been so horrible to you. How can you not hate me? Why . . .”

Clear’s hair brushes against Aoba’s forehead as he leans in. Aoba tilts his head up to kiss Clear lightly, to show him that no, he still can’t bring himself to hate the person he fell for so long ago. Clear’s back now and that’s all that matters.

“I can’t go on like this; _we_ can’t go on like this. Why didn’t you try to stop me with your words?   Only if you had talked some sense back into my nonsensical mind!”

“Aoba-san . . . Master. I’m sorry.”

Clear embraces him and Aoba melts into the embrace. It’s alright now because Clear is back. They can make it out alive now.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Clear’s taken Aoba out of Platinum Jail and out of Midorijima. They have not contacted Aoba’s family or friends because Clear knows that they are under Toue’s mind control. Clear has been trying so hard to make up for everything that he has taken away from Aoba. He has acquired advanced prosthetics that move almost like the real thing and even though Aoba can’t see or actually feel Clear through them, it’s better than nothing.

“It’s sunny and warm out today, Aoba-san,” Clear reports, softly stroking Aoba’s now-short hair. It had grown out so long during the time he had been imprisoned in Platinum Jail. He had mimed cutting off his hair and Clear had complied. Sensation has disappeared from most parts of his hair by now and he can’t feel any stimulation on his hair below his ear. Clear has cut it above his shoulders and even though Aoba can’t see it for himself, having short hair feels different and weird. For one, the back of his neck feels breezy and his head is a lot lighter.

“You look like you’re thinking about something a lot,” Clear comments. “I wish I could hear your thoughts in your own voice. There is technology out there to replace your vocal cords but I’m afraid it will be difficult to match the tone you had before. It is, of course, entirely up to you whether or not you want it. Would you like to have your voice back, Aoba-san?”

Slowly, Aoba nods. That way, he can finally convince Clear that he doesn’t resent him. That’s the only way.

Clear hugs him tightly. Sensation of wetness registers on Aoba’s cheeks and he realises that Clear is crying. He pats at Clear’s head and tries to soothe him. Soon, he will be able to do it better.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

“Okay, Aoba-san. I’ll be taking off the cloth now. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Aoba answers. It’s still off-putting to hear his voice. It’s similar to his voice from before but it has a slightly different timbre to it. Clear burst into tears the first time he heard it, from both nostalgia and sorrow. Now, Aoba is about to see for the first time in years.

When the cloth comes off, Aoba blinks a couple times to adjust to the brightness. He sees his reflection in the mirror. He is wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt and trousers, concealing his prosthetics from his view even though they look realistic. Clear’s face is behind him, and he turns around to see the real thing.

“Clear,’ Aoba starts. He looks the same: shaggy white hair, pink eyes, and the two moles dotting his chin. “Clear, I love you, do you understand? Even after all that’s happened, you came back to me and fought off Toue’s control over you. I’m not resentful of what’s happened because I can never hate the time I’ve spent with you. I love you and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Aoba-san. Thank you so much. You’ve no idea how much this matters. Your forgiveness and love.”

Aoba smiles and hugs Clear to his chest. “Everything will be alright. I have you and you have me. Always.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Petunias mean resent, orchids can convey refined beauty, and purple hyacinths stands for wanting forgiveness and feelings of sorrow.


End file.
